


Tightrope

by Clefaiiiry, JaydenDSin



Series: Mirage? A top? More likely than you think [3]
Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Aftercare, Ambiguous Genitals, BDSM, Begging, Biting, Canes, Canon Non-Binary Character, Collars, Crying, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, Fluff, Hair-pulling, Impact Play, Kink Negotiation, Oral Fixation, Other, Pain Kink, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage, Safewords, Shibari, Teasing, Vibrators, handjob, light pet play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 15:47:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18577585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clefaiiiry/pseuds/Clefaiiiry, https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaydenDSin/pseuds/JaydenDSin
Summary: Bloodhound looked so lovely in red.





	Tightrope

Bloodhound rarely showed stress.

They had a natural talent for keeping everything below the surface, burying things until they faded. Trust an idiot with a goofy smile to dig it all up and force them to actually develop some healthy coping mechanisms like an adult.

Sometimes that simply meant sitting down and talking at him while he braided their hair. Other times he’d let them cry into his chest, whisper reassurance, press kisses to their cheeks with that silly smile that made their chest feel so warm.

Though other times they seriously just needed to let him have _everything._

“What's your safeword?”

They mulled over it for a second, then said, “Caustic.”

Elliott stared at them. “What?”

“It’s the least sexually appealing thing I could think of,” Bloodhound offered with a shrug.

He let out a snort. “I mean, you’re not _wrong._ ”

Elliott buckled their collar in place, tilting his head to one side. The leather was firm, nipping at their skin. Their old collar had been put to one side for the evening, replaced with a new red one, bright against their skin.

Elliott was giddy already. “How do you look so good in every color?”

“Flattery will get you _everywhere_ , elskan,”

“I’m already exactly where I wanna be.” He stopped for a moment and covered his face. “Okay that was… lame.”

Bloodhound chuckled, absentmindedly reaching up to play with the tag of their collar. A simple little heart, _Pup_ etched across in a pretty cursive. A fond little smile played at their lips.

They were never Pup outside the bedroom, always Houndie, or babe, or sweetheart, or something equally sappy. Pup was reserved for when they wanted to get on their knees and beg for Elliott to make them a mess, pleading desperately for him to _just fuck them already_.

Elliott draped his arms around their waist, pressing their noses together. A wave of calm washed over them as his hands trailed up their sides, up over their neck, through their thick curly hair, his fingers occasionally getting caught on knots, sending little sparks of pleasure down their spine.

His grip suddenly tightened, yanking their head back, collar jingling, exposing their throat to lavish it with kisses and nips. Bloodhound could only cling to him and sigh, quivering at the attention. Elliott pulled away only when their neck was a mess of bruises and threaded two fingers under their collar.

“On your knees, Pup.”

“Yes, _sir._ ”

Elliott went bright red. “You, urh, can just call me Elliott tonight.”

“Yes, Elliott,” they chuckled, sticking out their tongue. He glanced away, grumbling something indistinct. He always got so flustered over the simplest of things.

But when he brought out lengths of red rope, it was their turn to be flustered.

They really should not have been surprised. Elliott had developed a mild obsession with shibari since discovering it some months ago. He’d tried to be sneaky about it at first, almost like it was something to be ashamed of, as if Bloodhound would ever judge him for indulging. They had asked for him to explain the appeal and he’d tripped over himself to excitedly ramble for a solid ten minutes.

When he had finished, he slumped back into the couch with a sheepish smile. If he’d had a tail, it would have been wagging.

“So, urh, would you wanna give it a shot?” He had asked.

“I see no harm in trying it.” With how he had explained it, they could see why it appealed to him, even if they were uncertain themself. _Perhaps he could show them_.

In the present, Elliott was still staring at them expectantly, back straight attempting to look nonchalant and failing rather spectacularly.

“Is this okay?” He asked, awkwardly threading the cords between his fingers.

“It’s wonderful,” they said, offering a hand to him.

Elliott took their hand, kissing each knuckle before he started to wind the rope around their wrist. He tied the knot with a little flourish that was so _Elliott_ it made their chest swell.

“Is that too tight?” he asked, running his thumb over their knuckles.

They kissed his nose. “It’s perfect. Keep going.”

Elliott grinned, maneuvering their arm towards their ankle, tying it in place. He repeated the action with their other wrist, pausing to once again kiss them before he started on their chest.

His muscles began to relax as he worked, humming a pop song that Bloodhound vaguely recognized as he struggled with an especially tricky knot.

It was therapeutic, really, gave them time to drift. They watched Elliott, noticed he’d had a haircut, how his brow furrowed in concentration at a particularly tough knot, how he patted each one when he was done before he moved onto the next. Through all of it, a low heat pooled in their stomach, persistent and needy.

If it had been with anyone else, the thought of being left so helpless would have been terrifying, but with Elliott they were safe. They could let go, let him be in control for once, knowing he would take care of them.

They tugged on the restraints, testing to see if there was any give. There wasn't, as expected. He had really outdone himself; all the time practicing had paid off.

They suddenly realized why he had chosen red as they looked down at themself; the color so stark against their skin that it made them sigh involuntarily.

“I haven’t even done anything yet, babe,” he laughed.

“This-” Bloodhound flexed against the ropes, the fibers digging into their skin. “-counts as _nothing_ to you?”

Elliott threaded a finger under their collar, tilting their head up. “Don’t worry, Pup. I’ll take good care of you.”

Their expression softened. “I know you will.”

Elliott took a moment to indulge himself in the softer intimacy, stroking through their hair, over their cheek, pressing soft kisses to their nose and forehead. Like they were a prized show dog, a beloved pet. If he were a more patient man, Elliott could have kept going for hours.

But patience was not one of his virtues and he had a something up his sleeve tonight.

“Hey, so I wanted to try something kinda different and out there and I’m, like, totally fine if you don’t wanna do it but-”

“Elliott,” they said, effectively halting his ramblings before it even started. “What is it?”

He hovered at their side for a few moments longer, then crouched to reach under the bed and pull out a slim wooden cane. Every muscle tensed and they sat straight.

Elliott twirled the cane around once, twice, testing the weight in his hands. Bloodhound couldn’t tear their eyes away for a second.

“Are you comfortable with me using this?” he asked, lifting it from his palm for just a moment. They licked their lips.

“I…”

Their heart thundered in their chest. They had asked him to hurt them before but never with anything like that. Their throat suddenly felt tight. _No, don’t panic. Elliott won’t mind. He’ll never force you into anything._

“I don’t know,” they admitted, little more than a whisper.

The irrational part of their head expected him to be disappointed, but he only smiled and propped the cane against the wall, still in their line of sight.

“We’ll get you worked up a little first and come back to it if you’re feeling up to it, okay?”

Bloodhound let out a breath they didn’t know they had been holding. “Thank you.”

“Let’s try something else, then,” he said, more to himself than Bloodhound, settling himself on the ground behind them, pulling them into his lap. It proved slightly more difficult with the rope, but they made it, even if they were left spread open _so widely_ like this.

His hand dipped between their legs, teasing them softly with his fingers. They sighed at the touch, head dropping to his shoulder. He worked slowly, eyes flickering between the ropes and his hand as the heat built.

“That’s it,” he murmured, growing more confident in his movements.

Bloodhound gasped at a particularly generous stroke. Elliott chuckled, lifting his hand for a second to spread their pre between his fingers.

“Look at that, you’re already excited. Man, I’m good.”

They snorted, pushing their nose into the crook of his neck as he dropped his hand back to their heat. His touches grew more intense until they squirmed under his hand.

“That’s it, just breathe for me. You’re doing so well. You’re so beautiful, Pup.” They whined at that, the praise and his touch setting their nerves alight, making them shudder.

“Aah, that’s- mmh! Oh...”

Elliott drew his hand away, bringing the slick fingers to their lips. Their tongue lolled out, lazily toying along each digit. Elliott’s sigh was louder than theirs, pulling them closer. They shifted, unable to suppress their smirk as they brushed his hard cock.

Elliott brought his hand away, taking a moment to breathe before he spoke, “Are you good to keep going?”

They nodded. Elliott gave them a look and pinched just under their ribs. They yelped and shot him a pout.

“Gonna need you to say it aloud, Houndie.”

“Please, Elliott, I need more,” they whined.

“Well, since you asked so nicely. What do you want, Pup?”

Their eyes ghosted over the cane, still propped against the wall. “Use it on me,” they asked, jerking their chin towards it. Elliott frowned.

“Are you sure?”

“Certain.”

“Okay, yeah, sure, we can try that.”

Elliott gave them one last smooch and pushed to his feet, retrieving the cane. He tapped the end against the floor as he approached, a little spark of glee rushing through his veins when they sat to attention at the sound.

He dragged it over the rug, then beginning the journey up over their skin. The tip trailed over their thigh, just light enough to feel, pressing no harder, not yet. It traveled down, between their legs, right across their-

“Elliott!”

They did _not_ squeak. If he said later that they had made that sound, they’d deny such an outlandish accusation. He pressed just a little bit harder and they gasped, trying to close their thighs only to be denied by the ropes.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, circling them once more to lay the cane against their ass. He allowed them a moment to ground themself.

He was actually going to do it, and they were actually one-hundred-percent okay with that. It was almost comedic, really. The most terrifying, deadly hunter the Outlands had seen in recent times was about to get smacked around by their boyfriend just so they could get off, but the thought still lit a fire under their skin. It left them aching with the need to draw Elliott in, for him to push their limits until they were sobbing, to just _get on with it already._

“Are you ready?” He asked.

They nodded.

“Bloodhound-”

“I’m ready, just- Please.”

They heard him take a deep breathe behind them, and then the cane disappeared. They almost turned to ask what was wrong when it came back down with a sharp _crack._

The first strike was restrained, testing the waters. Bloodhound gasped, more because they weren't expecting it than the sensation itself, reminding themself to breathe.

Then the pain set in and Bloodhound dropped their head with a groan, the buckle of their collar digging into their throat. He let them stew in it, just a little longer than necessary, watching how their thighs quivered, how their breaths came in shaky gasps, how a little line of drool escaped from the corner of their lips.

The cane ran along the mark, pressing just a little harder to make them jolt.

“Please,” Bloodhound whined.

Elliott chuckled, a low sound that made them shudder.

The second came down with just a little more force, straight over the first. They bit back the cry that threatened to escape, back arching. They didn’t have a chance to recover before the third struck their thigh.

“Fuck! Aah.” They wanted to cover their face, quell the lewd sounds that tumbled from their lips, but Elliott’s knots held firm.

“I don’t think I could ever gag you when we do this.” They could practically hear his smirk as he dug the tip into one of the angry red marks, making them writhe. “The sounds you make are just too cute.”

“Elliott- Aah!” Another strike, to the other thigh. They sobbed, wriggling against the rope. It hurt _so much_ but they craved the harsh bite against their skin.

They lost themself in the rhythm of it; a strike, a pause for the pain to ebb away into pleasure, then another strike. Occasionally, Elliott stopped for just a few moments longer, telling them how adorable they sounded, how good they looked, wiping stray saliva or tears from their face. His touch was always gentle, sweet, sometimes accompanied by a kiss to their forehead or a little ruffle of their hair.

Despite their body's protests, they ached to lean back into each strike, every crack against their back sending white hot pleasure down their spine. They had lost count when the next strike hit, just a tad harsher than the rest. They lurched forward, breaking position for a moment before forcing themself back up.

There was a pause. The heat blossomed across their skin, a hazy cloud that left them trembling. Elliott was speaking. They focused, grounding themself on his voice.

“Bloodhound, check in, baby.”

They didn’t respond at first, too busy catching their breath. It wasn’t until Elliott was crouched in front of them that they processed what he was actually saying.

“I’m fine, I promise, pl- please don’t stop.”

He hesitated, uncertainty lurking behind his eyes. But he trusted them, more than he’d ever trusted anyone. It would be an insult not to trust them now. He pushed back up to his feet, stopping just for a moment to pet their hair.

“Alright, Pup. We can keep going,” he whispered. “Just let me get a good look at you...”

He slid the tip of the cane under their chin, lifting them only a few inches. His smile was far too sweet for what he’d just been doing to them, but it left their chest so pleasantly warm that they didn’t pay it any mind.

“Absolutely stunning.”

They moaned, low and needy. If they were more lucid they would have heard Elliott curse under his breath.

“What do you need, Pup?”

They let out a whimper, trembling as they spoke. “Fuck me. Please.”

“So vulgar,” he teased, dropping their chin.

They slumped, breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. Elliott eyed them like a prize, trailing small touches across their shoulders, up their throat, brushing their hair from their face.

“I don’t think so, Pup. I’m more in the mood to just... take you apart. How does that sound?”

An involuntary curse slipped out and they gave the barest of nods.

“You've been so _good_ for me, Pup. I’m so proud of you.”

The praise made them giddy and light-headed, their toes curling. Elliott knew they were close to dropping. If nothing else, the small giggle that bubbled out of them was enough of an indicator. If they were any further from the edge they would have been too embarrassed to make such a sound.

A scheming grin crossed Elliott’s face.

“I’ve got something I _know_ you’ll like.”

They moaned in confusion, leaning into him as he strained for something on the bed. How they hadn’t noticed it earlier then was beyond them, but he dangled what was unmistakably a vibrator in front of their face. They felt their mouth water.

“I’m gonna finish you off with this. How does that sound?”

They whimpered and nodded, hips twitching. Elliott smirked and guided the toy to their lips. Their tongue dipped out, giving it a tentative lick.

“That’s it, good pet.”

Emboldened with praise, they wrapped their lips around the tip, giving it all the love they would to Elliott’s actual cock. A moan slipped out and they felt Elliott shudder behind them. He brought the toy away from their lips and took it between their legs, teasing the tip against their heat.

“Oh, Pup, you’re so sweet,” he whispered, pressing until they let out a choked sob.

Then he flicked it onto the highest setting and their brain short-circuited. They were weeping when they came back to themself, their face a mess of drool and tears as they squirmed against him.

“Please, please, please, Elliott, I can’t- Aaaah!”

He pressed the vibrator harder against them, his own sigh drowned out by the primal wail that tore from their throat. All they could do was moan and shake, pre dripping to the floor beneath them. They were beyond coherent words, crying out as he shifted the angle _just so_. It was too much, every rope blaring white hot across every bruise as their voice grew hoarse. Elliott was so close, pressed up against them, panting in their ear.

Then he gave a little nip to the lobe and they came, hard enough to scream. Every muscle tightened as they wrestled against the overstimulation, spouting curses in their native tongue until he took pity on them and took the vibrator away. They sagged uselessly in his arms, dead weight. Delicate, happy, dead weight.

Their mind swam, for how long they weren’t certain. A firm warmth enveloped them, grazing against tender skin and frayed nerves, leaving them shaking. They sobbed, jerking at the sensation. A voice tried its best to cut through the fog, but they could only moan and let themself be directed by unseen hands.

They were vaguely aware of the ropes coming loose, arms flopping to the floor with a dull thud. Bloodhound would have hit the ground if not for the firm chest in front of them. Elliott was talking, brushing a hand through their hair as he whispered praise, but not a word of it processed as anything but sweet noise.

Slowly, everything began to take shape. The fog dissipated, with soft kisses and careful movements. They felt sticky, used, and sore all over, but so safe and warm in Elliott’s arms that they melted into every little touch.

Maybe if they were left like this any longer they would’ve happily fallen asleep right there, but Elliott wouldn’t let them doze off until he’d cleaned them up.

He gave them a little squeeze and pushed up to his feet. They whined at the loss, but he didn’t leave them for long, scooping them up into his arms and pressing a little kiss to their cheek.

“You did so well. I love you so much.”

They were lowered to their plush, soft bed. Elliott said something, waited a moment, then stroked their hair until their eyes focused on his soft expression.

“I’m gonna go get a cloth, okay? I’m just in the other room.”

They nodded, just barely, too far gone for anything more.

Elliott was out of sight for only a few moments, but it was enough time for Bloodhound to miss his touch. They wanted to push up, just so they could see him in the en suite bathroom, but their arms were made of putty and the bed was just so cozy.

The bed dipped as Elliott crawled in beside them, taking great care to avoid the worst of their bruises as he wiped them down.

“Do you need anything? Water? Too sore anywhere?”

They feebly tugged at his arm until he curled around them, dragging the blankets up to their chin. He nuzzled into their shoulder, beard tickling their hyper-sensitive skin and making them squeal. He chuckled, pressing sloppy wet kisses across their cheeks until they were giggling, pliant in his hands.

Elliott pressed their noses together one last time before he rolled over and moved to stand, but Bloodhound caught him.

“Stay here.”

Elliott glanced back and kissed them, aiming for their lips but catching their cheek. “You seriously need lotion on some of those.”

“Just kiss them better.”

“Babe, you and I both know that isn’t a good al- alter- alt- ah, fuck.”

“Alternative.”

“Yeah, that, thanks. I know my smooches are pretty damn good, but I dunno if they can heal something like this.” His fingers ghosted over a fat yellowing mark on their thigh and they flinched.

“Just a little longer?”

He caved with a drawn out groan. “Fine, five minutes and then we get you all fixed up.”

Bloodhound fell asleep after two, too warm and cozy in their boyfriend’s arms to resist the calm lull of sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey, stop that!”

Bloodhound looked up from the mark on their thigh as Elliott entered the bathroom. It was much too small for two individuals of their builds to occupy, especially when both wanted to look in the mirror, but they refused to budge.

“Stop what?”

“Stop pressing those,” he said, gesturing to the fat ugly bruise they had just been agitating, “it’ll make them worse.”

“That is the intention, my beloved,” they said, making a point of sighing as they pressed again. “Does it bother you?”

Elliott laughed, loud and strained as he swatted their hand away. “No! Yes? I don’t know?! I dunno if it’s healthy to do that to old bruises.”

Bloodhound chuckled darkly. “I suppose you will have to give me some new ones then, no?”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic took literately two weeks for us to write.
> 
> //only because kept kept going back and forth on... details.


End file.
